"You're enjoying this."
She laughed.
"Finding evidence?"
"Ordering dangerous mountain men around."
Clara grinned.
"Only one."
He raised an eyebrow.
She stepped closer.
"And he's remarkably stubborn."
Caleb laughed.
For a moment, the schoolhouse felt warmer.
Then Clara reached toward his hand.
He took it.
She looked up.
"I know this isn't only about my father anymore."
Caleb's expression softened.
She continued.
"It's about Thomas too."
He nodded.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then she whispered, "We'll find the truth."
Caleb looked into her eyes.
He wanted to believe her.
Wanted to believe that careful records and honest witnesses could overcome the influence of men like Gideon Voss.
But he had lived long enough to know that truth didn't always win simply because it was true.
Sometimes people had to protect it.
Carry it.
Repeat it.
And refuse to let more powerful men bury it beneath convenient explanations.
He squeezed her hand.
"We'll do everything we can."
Clara nodded.
She seemed satisfied with the honesty.
Then she returned to the maps.
And Caleb stood beside her, studying the mountain terrain that had taken his brother's life.
This time, he would not go searching for vengeance.
He would go searching for proof.
The expedition began on the first clear morning of March.
The sun had risen above the eastern hills, but the air remained bitterly cold.
Snow covered the upper slopes.
Ice clung to shaded rocks.
And the northern creek ran beneath a thin crust in places where the current slowed.
Caleb stood outside the livery stable checking the horses.
Sheriff Boone had brought two deputies.
An independent surveyor named Henry Mallory had arrived from a neighboring settlement with instruments, field books, and enough professional skepticism to make Clara trust him almost immediately.
Mallory was sixty-two, with a gray mustache, narrow shoulders, and the habit of examining everything twice.
He had spent more than thirty years surveying western lands.
He disliked careless calculations.
Distrusted grand promises.
And believed the greatest source of boundary disputes was a man's willingness to accept a convenient measurement without checking where it came from.
When Clara showed him her father's notes, he studied them for nearly an hour.
Then looked up.
"Who made these?"
"My father."
Mallory nodded.
"Careful work."
Clara felt tears gather.
"Thank you."
He tapped the page.
"Doesn't prove the conclusion yet."
She nodded.
"I know."
"But it's enough to justify examining the location."
For a moment, relief crossed her face.
He folded the paper.
Then added, "Now we find out whether the ground agrees with the book."
Caleb liked him immediately.
The party included six riders in total.
Caleb.
Clara.
Sheriff Boone.
Mallory.
And the two deputies.